by Chloe Hodge
Before the party turned in for the night, they toasted Harrietti and spoke of what grand things awaited them. Ashalea and Shara imagined the beauty of the Aquafarian Province and Wezlan smiled at their musings, for he was the only one who had ventured there, and in his opinion, words could not express the splendour.
They all dreamed of wondrous things and the next morning were up and about before the rising sun could greet the new day. As promised, Trusty Lerian and Kaylin were waiting for them, and Wezlan had purchased a third horse called Fallar the afternoon prior. Soon all horses were geared up for the journey. Wezlan, Ashalea and Shara offered their thanks to Miriam and Jundar, and then they were off.
“It is a days’ ride to reach the bridge to Pilyar but we needn’t bother passing through the village. It will only slow us down,” Wezlan said, stroking his long white beard. “Once we pass through the border into the Aquafarian Province, we should soon be greeted by the Royal Guard of King Tiderion. They will escort us to the Elven village of Windarion.”
Ashalea and Shara nodded and then continued in silence. After a time, Wezlan reached into the saddlebags and pulled out a journal filled with ancient runes, which he peered at rather comically as his hand swayed back and forth to Lerian’s gait. Shara’s mind was buried deep in her own troubles so Ashalea attempted communicating with Kaylin. Again, broken thoughts flickered through, this time of the joyous few days spent with Lerian wandering open fields and outrunning would-be captors. Ashalea breached the mental gap between them for a few moments and let him know she was present.
“… Ashalea?” the bay snorted in surprise. He stamped his hooves a little in excitement. “What a pleasant surprise! How—”
But the connection broke all too soon. She ruffled his mane and gently stroked his face. “I promise I’ll keep working on it,” she leaned in, whispering in one ear.
Although she didn’t get to speak to him, Ashalea was pleased with the progress, if a little amused at the formal manner of Kaylin’s speaking.
Who knew a horse could be so polite? She giggled.
Shara glanced over at the exchange, rolling her eyes at the oddly dumb expression on Ashalea’s face. But it did make her smile, and she chuckled quietly, happy to focus on anything but her thoughts.
Ashalea turned her attention to the scenery around her. So long had she lived amongst the trees and dreamed of a bigger world, and now it was finally here, all around her. The sun kissed her cheeks and the green plains swept off towards the horizon in all directions. Wildflowers and weeds graced patches of the unfolding terrain. It was peaceful. One could almost forget evil even existed.
She scanned the horizon. To the far east, the peaks of Diodon Mountains stretched towards the sky, and some ways off she could see the pine trees that shrouded Shadowvale. In the distance before them, a waterfall stood proudly; the mark of the Aquafarian Province.
Wezlan caught her gaze and smiled. “Everosia’s lands are beautiful, and the world beyond is vast. Bigger than you could ever dream.”
“Have you travelled beyond, Wezlan? Have you seen the world?”
A guffaw escaped his lips. “I’ve seen many things, dear girl, and not just in our world. When you’re a wizard and you live this long, travel is part of the job.”
“Just how old are you, anyway?” Shara said.
His look was less than impressed. “Old enough to know better than you.”
Ashalea stifled a laugh. The company had grown, and she was still unsure of its newest member, but the conversation was light, and weather pleasant. The sway of Kaylin was rhythmic. For once in her life she felt at ease, merely being present in a carefree moment.
The day passed much the same until they stopped to camp by the river for the night. Wezlan used the time to draw up some letters, whereas Ashalea used the opportunity to practise her sword skills with Shara. Despite her agile feet and nimble reflexes, Shara bested her in every spar, a smug smile plastered on her face.
Enjoy it while you can, night dancer, Ashalea plotted, I’ll return the favour.
Each time they sparred, Ashalea was tossed onto her rear, flipped on her back and pushed onto her face. By this time, she was bruised and battered, and her elvish bones protested at the strange feeling that humans call ‘aching’. Her rear was well and truly suffering after a few cheeky spanks from the flat of Shara’s blade too.
Even the horses neighed their bravos to Shara but Kaylin soon quieted when Ashalea threw a flushed scowl his way. After a flurry of silver sparks Shara once more tripped up Ashalea’s feet and held the blade to her throat.
“Arrghh you win again,” Ashalea groaned after once again being thumped onto mossy green carpet.
“That’s… how many to me now?” Shara nudged her companion with glee before extending a hand to the young elf. “All you need is practice. You have the speed and the strength, but you lack connection to the blade. It is an art to wield a sword and there is power in combat.” She thought about it a moment. “Figuratively, that is,” she said pointing at Ashalea and Wezlan, “not all of us are blessed with Magicka,” she scowled.
Ashalea laughed, relenting her dark mood, and even the wizard chuckled in his perch by the fire, having snatched a few glances at their training. “I’ve been training with you for three years, Wezlan, and here I am being bested by a human? I demand answers,” she teased.
The wizard looked up lazily from his parchment. “I never said I was proficient with a sword. Where my combat training lacks, I rely on this,” he tapped his staff, “to aid me.”
Ashalea huffed. “Well, you’re fired. I’ve found a new teacher.”
He waved a hand with a flourish. “I’ve been meaning to ask for a vacation, anyway.”
Ashalea raised a brow and he laughed. It was good to see him smile. Since the seer’s passing, Wezlan’s forehead had grown progressively more wrinkled. She didn’t blame him. The last two weeks had flown by, and their latest findings had been a lot to take in.
She peered at Shara, who was now lounging by the fire, the usual smug expression planted on her face. The girl’s hostile attitude had died down to a simmer, but did Shara’s interests align with her own? She considered the perks of having an Onyxonite as an ally. An assassin and Guardian wouldn’t go astray in a fight against the darkness. And the girl was trying to cooperate, and they were both trying to get along. They’d even shared a few laughs together. Yes, this might just be a suitable partnership.
Wezlan settled his papers down and eyed off the two women. “Once we’ve reached the Aquafarian Province, we will meet with the King and Queen to discuss matters of late. From what Harrietti told us, the next Guardian could well be in Windarion. Hopefully, the King will have some suggestions as to who fits the profile.”
Ashalea warmed her hands by the fire. “The next Guardian could be anyone close to the royals. A council member, a general, a warrior... The list is endless, Wezlan.”
Her old friend smiled. “Have faith, Ashalea. The King’s inner circle can only be so big. We will find them.”
“And what happens when we do?” Shara chimed in.
“Then we must believe they will do what’s right and accept their fate.” He raised a brow. “You did.”
The assassin fell silent and stared into the fire. She searched her pockets, hidden straps and compartments, pulled out an assortment of knives and began sharpening them. Ashalea ogled at her collection and wondered how she managed to hide so much steal underneath form-fitting clothes.
In any case, the routine seemed to please Shara, and despite the grating noise on Ashalea’s ears, she made herself a comfortable spot beside the fire, and settled into her blankets, feeling sleepy. Cosy and collected, Ashalea crossed her arms behind her silver hair and gazed at the stars. She was just about to doze off when a familiar owl circled from above. And so, she smiled, for guidance was just a wingspan away.
◆◆◆
A great beast erupted from azure waters; its scissor fangs clenched on the scarlet s
cales of a hapless creature from the depths. In one gulp the fish was gone, and with beady black eyes the beast scanned the blue expanse for its next victim. It needn’t look far, for a party of land dwellers rapidly approached, guided by their water-born steeds.
A golden spear soared through the sky, making its mark upon the beast’s exposed belly. A piercing scream sounded, and the waters of the Aquafarian Province turned into raging rapids as the gigantic worm-like creature thrashed its bulk around in fury.
Closing in were four elves, each equipped with golden spears and harpoons, their weapons blinding as they flashed in the sun. They stood upon the backs of four exceptionally large seahorses and were edging forwards daringly. The beast was trapped, but hatred hath no fury like this abomination, and whipping its head around in anger it snatched a male elf, launched him into the air and caught him between fangs.
It lowered its snaking body beneath the waves and gazed at the remaining three, satisfied at the helpless look in their eyes. As if mocking them, it burst from the blue and with a sickening crunch, ripped the elf asunder.
The remaining three elves gasped in dismay but remained where they were, seeking the beast’s weak spots, banking left and right on their mounts to avoid the beast’s fangs. It glared at them, twisting back and forth, toying like a cat would a mouse.
Once more it launched from the waters with lightning speed, this time snaking its tail around an elf and pulling her to the deep. Her mount lurched down with her, but it too met with a watery grave as the beast twirled its bulk around the animal and squeezed like a boa constricting its prey.
The last two elves circled cautiously, gauging their chances, looking for openings and testing the worm by darting in and out. Hard scales covered the creature’s body, bar a naked ring on its underbelly.
Two shots. That’s all they had. Kill or be killed.
A battle cry rang through the air, amplified by Magicka so it boomed across the water. Three horses approached; their riders crouched low as they galloped to the lake’s edge. Wezlan rose in the stirrups, beard whipping through the wind. He raised his staff in the air and a green light exploded from its core; so bright that it blinded the great worm momentarily.
Lerian’s hooves skidded to a halt and Wezlan bellowed at the elves. “Throw your spear!” he commanded the two elves.
They glanced at each other, startled by the old man and his comrades.
“NOW!”
One spear fell meekly against brown and yellow scales, and the beast whipped its head round, ready to deflect the golden bringers of pain. But it was too late. Yet another spear ripped into exposed flesh, this time causing black blood to ooze out of the gash.
From the edge of the lake, almighty power began to reverberate into the water and a great ball — much like the one Shara had been trapped in — enveloped the worm.
“Now, Ashalea! I can’t hold for long!” Wezlan gasped, beads of sweat already dripping into his beard from the sheer size of his creation.
Ashalea mustered all her strength and cleared her mind, ignoring the chaos surrounding her. The Magicka hummed in her chest and the song of the ancients grew louder in her heart. The whispers of Magicka were ready for release, and thinking of the spell required, she cast her arm out and called forth.
“Thindarõs!”
Swirling tendrils of thunder escaped her fingertips, piercing the Magicka ball and sparking the creature’s wet skin. Blinding white light flashed from within and an electric vortex gathered as it fried all life from the beast. Ashalea gasped, dropping to the ground as the last of her strength gave way and the power was released.
Wezlan recalled the energy ball, and the lake quieted once more. All that remained of the beast was a burnt husk, sunk into the watery depths.
The remaining elves looked at them aghast, taking a moment to recover their wits. They guided their steeds to the water’s edge and eyed off the party with curiosity. Ashalea and Wezlan waited to be greeted, out of breath as they were, and Shara, still a little bemused, just stared at the elves haughtily.
The elves put their hands on their sword hilts and Shara dashed forward protectively, weapon drawn in an instant.
But then the two male elves suddenly bowed down, heads lowered in respect. Casting their eyes up once more they broke into rugged grins and threw tanned, muscly arms around Wezlan and Shara, stiff and unamused as she was.
To Ashalea, they immediately dropped to the ground in an elaborate bow. “My lady,” they recited.
She gaped at them, mouth ajar, and bewildered, and glanced at Wezlan with hands raised. “Umm… You’re welcome?”
Shara rolled her eyes pointedly at Ashalea. “Turning soldiers to slaves now?”
One of them lifted their heads from the ground, staring at Ashalea quizzically. “How—”
Wezlan hurriedly stepped between them. “We have travelled several days to get here, and the Magicka takes a toll on our health. Perhaps we can move on?”
The two females exchanged baffled looks at the strange display, raised an eyebrow each and grinned.
Men.
“Of course. You have done us a great service and rid us of the beast,” said one with brown eyes and a shocking mop of turquoise hair.
“For that we owe you our lives.” said the other, his bright green eyes and amber hair glistening in the sun.
Wezlan ushered them to stand and shook hands with each in earnest. “You owe us nothing. We saw the battle from afar and acted as anyone would.”
Ashalea peered into the lake. “If only we were moments faster.”
The elves each put a hand over heart and shook their heads in sorrow. “It is a sad day to see an elf taken so young, but they will be remembered in our halls,” said the one with amber hair.
“May the waters wash away all pain of yesterday, and carry your soul to Celune,” they each echoed, reciting the death prayer to the elvish water goddess.
Wezlan peered at the lake, where the worm had sunk into the depths. “This is the first time this creature was spotted?”
Both elves nodded and he stroked his beard in contemplation.
“What are you thinking, Wezlan?” Ashalea asked.
“There is only one river that flows into the Province, and the connecting lake is—”
“Telridge,” Shara said.
All eyes turned to her.
“The river flows from this lake, through the Grove and down to Telridge. The lake there is not far from the marshes.”
Exasperated, Ashalea swept a hand through her hair. “Then Lady Nirandia was right. The dwarves are protecting their own borders, and that’s it. Until Woodrandia’s forces move towards the marshes, Western Everosia is at risk.”
“Which is how the creature would have passed through the river unchecked,” finished Shara.
“The question is… Where are they coming from?”
Wezlan’s face was grim. “I think I know, and it’s worse than I imagined. You all have a brief understanding of the Guardians’ role, yes?”
Ashalea nodded, the elves exchanged confused looks and Shara shrugged noncommittedly.
“At the centre of the Grove is a gateway to other realms. A kind of portal, if you will. It allows the user to travel into other dimensions and back. A powerful weapon, but one that could be disastrous if used for ill intent. After the battle of the Divine Six, the darkness was trapped into another dimension, and the portal locked to that realm. It remains locked to this day.”
“But nineteen years ago, he reappeared in our world,” Ashalea uttered softly.
Wezlan nodded. “I believed his power was tied to the weapon he used, but I was wrong. There is only one other way the darkness could re-enter this world.”
Ashalea’s eyes widened and a sudden understanding passed between her and Wezlan. “No… You can’t mean? But not even the most talented mages, or even you, Wezlan, could amass that much power…”
“What? What power?” Shara interjected.
“Yes. He
is opening his own portals. He has grown strong in the three years since I last faced him. Perhaps the other dimension has a Magicka of its own. If his power continues to grow…”
Shara cottoned on. “And he amasses a large enough army of creatures…”
The three of them cursed.
Wezlan turned to the elves. “We must speak with King Tiderion and Queen Rivarnar immediately.”
The expressions on the other elves’ faces suggested they had no clue as to what was happening, but the turquoise haired man bowed. “As you wish.” He gestured at himself and then at his friend. “I am Kinna, and my comrade is Ondori. We are members of King Tiderion’s royal guard. Who may we present to his Highness?”
“I am Wezlan Shadowbreaker, and these are my companions, Ashalea Kindaris and Shara Silvaren,” Wezlan said. “Hurry.”
Kinna nodded. “Please wait here. We will need extra mounts and the King will need informing.”
Their faces turned dark as they looked at the corpse beneath the water.
Ondori shook his head. “King Tiderion will be most displeased. This creature is a bad omen.”
They all stood quietly for a moment before Kinna’s cheery face lit up once more. “Explore the lake while you wait. It appears to be safe once again and you’ll find it a truly beautiful place. We won’t be long.”
The elves bowed once more before springing back onto their mounts and making for the waterfall that flowed yonder. Then they were gone. Ashalea sighed. The weight of their discovery was a heavy burden and Wezlan’s shoulders seemed decidedly more slumped after their discussion, but until the King granted them an audience there was little more that could be done.
“Not exactly the welcome I was expecting,” Shara said, stretching her arms out. She sniffed the air. It still held a lingering stench of burnt flesh and she crinkled her nose in disgust. “Perhaps we can move further down the bank?”
The others nodded in agreement and trudged along until they found a shady spot with plenty of grass for the horses. All three stayed well away from the water.